


To: All the High Class Ass

by Calesvol



Category: Spider-Man (Comicverse), Spider-Man - All Media Types, Venom (Comics)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Codependency, Developing Relationship, Implied Relationships, Other, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Possessive Behavior, Reconciliation, References to Addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-23 00:37:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17673083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calesvol/pseuds/Calesvol
Summary: For one never truly forgets one's first true love.





	1. Chapter 1

Warning: M, some sexual insinuation

* * *

It kept him up at night, what Brock had said to him: as Anti-Venom, he somehow detected traces of Venom at a cellular level. Circulating his body, and he wondered what it could mean. Was that it? The source of his rage? What Venom himself had said, had shown him? A bicycle ride with hallucinogens. Memories that weren’t his own, of this Klyntar planet, them being Agents of the Cosmos—words that hadn’t meant anything to him at the time.

 

Peter Parker stared for what seemed to be the fifth consecutive minute of blankly contemplating the meandering cracks in his ceiling, seeing too closely, too detailed. Tracing the paths like rivers, irritation bubbling in his blood like simmering water.

 

Something was keeping him awake. Something nameless. Prickling in his blood with reminders, speaking so softly it were as though it was there, with him in that very moment. It was a human paranoia he felt when Peter shot up in bed, the outlines of the city spangled with light like stars bleeding through the translucent curtains that adorned his room’s sole, dusty window.

 

Blinking when he realized he’d been staring for too long, Peter shook his head. “C’mon, Petey, it’s too early for a trip to the funny farm,” he groused beneath his breath, huffing and swinging his legs off the bed. No use in dwelling on it.

 

In a matter of minutes, like readying himself for another day of prowling New York’s streets for the next big scoop, Peter quickly gave himself a needless shower and clad himself in his spider suit, feeling a sense of liberation as he vaulted through his window for what would be time better used patrolling the city streets.

 

Swinging from the shallow slope of light poles in their descent into downtown did the air rushing past his ears momentarily silence his thoughts, the acrobatic churning of his view grant a happily distracted sort of disorientation. This was freedom. This was Spider-Man watching over the city he loved, swelling with pride that he could come from such a place.

 

Even through all the turmoil and hardship, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

 

But, like an alarm clock jolting some young schoolboy from bed at 7 sharp, the shrill blast of police sirens racing through night streets dragged him from his reverie and made his pace like some running stride through the air. Suspended there, his body narrowly moved of its own accord, following the sound of a denizen’s panic. Though supervillains were as common as spiders anymore, part of him hoped this was just some run of the mill, classic jewelry store robbery. Something cliché and thoughtless.

 

Except, things never went according to what should’ve been, did they?

 

As the buildings grew into a forest of metal and towering glass, the lights from the racing squad cars reflected vivid and brilliantly and the sound played with echoes in its new glass box as Spider-Man took a momentary pause, tapping an ear piece lined within his cowl. Switching through stations, Peter was able to radio in which frequency those of the particular squadron were tuned into, assuring he’d found the right station before taking off in hot pursuit again. Again, his mind picked and chose where he needed to go, which streets and buildings were fastest to accelerate between and over, where the location was.

 

‘ _Venom’s current host, Mac Gargan, has been subdued with the symbiote no where to be found—‘_

 

Spider-Man had to cling for purchase atop a gargoyle atop an old cathedral’s belfry when that particular line jumped at him like a drunk driver on a rampage, the breeze that had been chasing him howling coldly in his ears. Almost thematically did lightning and thunder rock the late spring air, sizzling the air in an aftermath of ozone.

 

“You’ve got to kidding me,” Peter remarked aloud, almost sounding dismayed were it not for an unbidden fury of excitement that broiled in his chest. Pounded there like a second heart, goading and guiding him like an addiction. _No...that’s because this is your chance, Parker! Time to put that thing away once and for all!_

 

In a blur of motion and time did Peter sail through the air, swinging and unleashing his Webs to catapult himself until coming to the site where Mac was being processed. Then, it dawned on him how the feat had been possible at all: enormous amplifiers the police spoke through that had been enough.

 

“Hey, Spider-Man, did you a real solid here!” Officer Jefferson Davis greeted rather cheerily once Peter landed, the man smiling through his mask.

 

“Nice going, officer, but if Jameson catches word I’ll never hear the end of it,” Peter quipped back in good humor, earning a rich laugh from Davis. “So, uh—any word of what happened to the symbiote? I was on my way to prom and it was supposed to be my date.” Nothing like a little humor more iconic than his Spidey Sense.

 

The man flashed a pearly grin. “You know, honestly, we’re not really sure. Everything happened real fast and, before you know it, all we have is a man naked as the day he was born out for the world to see. Not the best way to bring a man down, but I’ll take that over a backyard brawl any day.”

 

As the Davis droned on, something in Peter snapped. An imperative at the level of instinct, he felt as though something transfixed him to the very soul, cauterizing him with need. Shaped like greed, it was silky against his psyche. Brought claws to his skin and dragged them with such softness they might have been felt at all. Teased with serrated teeth that nibbled on his soul seductively. His mind felt warm and blank, but his body wanted to move. He felt corrupted. He felt richness and wretchedness at all once.

 

“Hey, real sorry, sir, but I gotta get going. Clock’s almost ready to strike midnight, you know how it is.”

 

“Alright, Spider-Man, you do what you have to. Drop by the precinct any time.”

 

He departed with a smile in his voice. “Sure thing, sir. I’ll bring a date, too.”

* * *

If there was one thing he could be grateful for, it was that at least the perpetually rumored alligators in the sewers weren’t real. Sidling along sides and avoiding rats, the slick of moss and dampness and whatever populated the sewers among the vermin. Speak of the devil, one gave an indignant squeak when he almost stepped on its tail.

 

“Hey, hey! Promise me you won’t tell Cinderella?” he called after the scurrying rat before the slow creep of dripping water dominated the silence, leaving Peter tortuously alone with his thoughts. His walk resumed, lacking the automatic stride that seemed so inherent from before.

 

So, the vigilante hadn’t imagined it.

 

Instead of packing it away, he brought it from the recesses of his mind. It felt like withdrawal. Except, this wasn’t withdrawal from a drug. It was so, so much more. And...it scared him. Few things really did anymore, what with how he’d almost been Spider-Man for almost fifteen consecutive years, but this did. Because this wasn’t an enemy he could see and fight and send off to the Raft or prison, or wherever the hell else they belonged.

 

It was part of him. And some desperate corner of him wanted it back.

 

“Really should’ve gotten some Stark Tech,” Peter muttered under his breath, letting the cloudy heat pressing at the crown of his skull guide him like a homing beacon, following it beguilingly. As if it made perfect sense, somehow. “Maybe a flamethrower, like Rambo. _Say hello to my little friend_!” Though humored, his voice and expression were still tense.

 

Tense, but why? This… It felt like he was coming home to something familiar. Something horrible for him. Something sublime.

 

Peter balked when he heard a keening screech echo shrilly, a pack of rats raising a cacophony of shrieks as they raced over his feet, some falling into the water but still escaping doggedly, dog-paddling until they were consumed by darkness. His heart hammered in his chest, not from fear, but an anticipation he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Picking his way through, Peter came to a nexus of pipes storied tall that saw thin waterfalls cascade into a shallow chasm below.

 

There, the eel-like enormity of Venom was suspended over a half dozen rats it was currently scooping on its tongue, holding no revulsion it should’ve when there was an audible crunch of bones before Venom swallowed them whole, panting hard and sniffing the area for more.

 

Like a statue did Peter stand, hand sweeping up to blindly remove his mask and pocket it, unaware as to what he was doing. Face statuesque and dispassionate, fierce with a hazy concentration, it were as though he were in a trance. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said abruptly, the symbiote wheeling around and tensing as though it’d been slapped. However, when it sniffed the air, nostrils flaring, what should’ve been the tensity between arch-enemies instead stopped with realization.

 

It could sense the _need_ of its former host, an addict’s desperation. Something so unhealthy, but deliciously missed that even Venom trembled from how badly it was wanted.

 

**First love.**

 

Peter’s gaze shifted, glancing around. Who said that?

 

_**First love!** _

 

Gaze ranging back, Peter flinched when the symbiote was directly in front of his face, bipedal like a man. Muscled and fierce like Brock was piloting it again. A stray rat’s limb stuck from between its teeth before the tip of its prehensile tongue sucked it back in, Peter watching in horror as its smile spanned into a ghoulish grin, raspy, husky chuckling sounding in devilish amusement.

 

 **Why are you here, little spider?** it teased on a silky, sensuous purr that coiled around the brunet and made him shiver.

 

Though Peter was taken aback at first, he set his jaw and hardened his resolve, planting his feet firmly. “To stop you,” he said automatically even as his brain prickled and crackled, the symbiote’s presence causing his very psyche to crane towards it yearningly. So much so it felt like his very breath was being vacuumed into it. It was hard to breathe even if he refused to show it.

 

“You can’t survive without a host,” was blurted out, Peter belatedly surprised when he heard himself say it, a slight flush climbing the nape of his neck. “You’re not a threat without one, Venom.”

 

Venom’s grin became open and wolfish. **Could leave me to die,** Venom replied, taking another step closer as Peter emulated it with one back, heel hitting a wall but refusing to let his eyes so much as drop. **But you’re here. Why is that, little spider?**

 

Peter took pause, knowing there was no point in trying to conceal what the other could likely sense, even if their minds weren’t linked. Whatever fear had burbled there subsided, dimmed into some uncanny level of calm even for him. Sure, he’d squared off with Venom innumerable times before, but that didn’t mean he was dumb enough to underestimate the symbiote even without Brock. It was a moment of clarity that rung like a bell throughout the confined space.

 

“I’m not the one who’s desperate here,” Peter stated, eyes of resolution practically burning into the symbiote’s. “I don’t need you.” Confidence bloomed with every word as he pushed Venom back by its chest, its cockiness faltering before taking a swan dive. His features were lined with severity and some jagged hope alike. “But, you? Brock’s trying to kill you, Flash became Anti-Venom, and Mac’s been arrested and there’s no easy way getting back to you. Price… Yeah, we know how that worked out. And me? Well—“

 

 **Didn’t have a problem with us until Richards said something,** the symbiote said suddenly, Peter glaring at the serpentine head that manifested over his shoulder warily, its opalescent eyes gleaming as it studied him closely. **You** _ **liked**_ **having us.** There was no teasing in its tone. Only a hard truth.

 

He wanted to rebut, but that feeling returned forcefully. Perspiration beaded his brow and he felt uncomfortably hot, throat becoming parched and his palms became clammy. An indescribable urge came to clutch his chest when his heart throbbed, as if a shard of ice had been thrust into it. “Flash was right. You fed on my rage. That’s not like, that’s—“

 

 _ **Addiction**_ **. That what you meant to say, Spidey?** Peter’s breath caught in his throat when Venom finally said what it was, said it as the only truth he could be. Every moment felt like his defenses were crumbling, that what Venom gave him would return and he’d be prone and useless to it.

 

He watched, dumbfounded, as Venom’s inky tendrils coiled his wrist and twined between his digits, too morbidly fascinated to withdraw when the symbiote’s breath misted over his gloved hand, mouth splitting open when a rush of adrenaline made him fear it would try and sever his fingers clean off. That wasn’t the case when its tongue coiled around his fore- and index fingers, panting softly as it began sucking on them lewdly.

 

Else, Peter was too shocked to think of any way else to describe it. A guilty and involuntary heat blossomed in his belly, only adding a strangeness and bewilderment to the symptoms of whatever else was afflicting him. “What—are you doing?” came his ragged but guiltily throaty protest, voice unable to lilt. Between the unpleasantness of what he was experiencing to the sting of heat Venom’s ministrations made him feel, it was enough to make the vigilante crumble with both immensely guilty desire and nausea.

 

Peter crumbled to catch himself on a genuflected knee, trembling with searing heat and sticky, sick perspiration. In that moment of weakness, Venom’s inky tendrils embraced him in a smooth, warm nexus of webbing, its head tucking against his pulse and huffing with strange contentment, having since released Peter’s fingers.

 

His breathing was still heavy and stertorous, willing himself to catch it again as he turned towards the head and rudimentary, serpentine body where the rest coiled him. Sweat since mottled his hair, gleaming on his face especially with the closure Venom now had on him. “I don’t get you. We’ve done nothing but hurt each other,” he said finally, gathering his legs beneath him so he could sit with a leg propped up, the other partly crossed. “It’s always back and forth. It’s always the same. Nothing’s changed.”

 

**Don’t understand us. Hosts make us who we are. Became like that because of hosts. Flash warned you about infecting us with rage, remember?**

 

Though he felt Venom nuzzle against his cheek, Peter’s lips pursed uncertainly. “Even if that is the case, you know it’s not just...gonna make the past go away, right? You still have to be accountable for your actions. Like when you took me out for nightly joyrides.” The brunet grimaced at the memory, even if he’d technically been unconscious at the time. He folded his arms, finally glancing at the symbiote.

 

 **Wanted to be a hero. Wanted to be like you. Everything we are is because of you, Spider-** **M** **an.** Peter nodded obliquely. He’d fought with Venom enough times to know its abilities had been an emulation of his own, down to the ivory spider on its chest shaped like his own. Though, a cold shudder was felt. **But, you abandoned us. Never been in so much pain before.** Venom tucked against his neck again, shivering.

 

There was a pregnant pause. Something yet thawing its way to the dead and dry period before spring after a long, long winter.

 

He didn’t know if he should apologize yet. It nestled uncertainly on his tongue, but years of bitterness were yet hard to surmount. “You’re not giving me a choice. I’m not doing this because I want to,” he said as he regarded Venom with a significant look, “but because I have to. So someone worse won’t come along.” At least until he could figure out what could be done with the symbiote.

 

Gingerly did Peter rise to his feet, sighing relief when Venom’s tendrils retracted. Preparing for the worst part, instead of being collided into like a car crash, Venom appeared as a humanoid again and traced his jaw with a single digit, no conniving smile like before present. Peter’s hazel eyes widened in shock when muscular, onyx arms wound partially around his neck and arrested him to the nearest wall.

 

It was a kiss more intense than any he’d had before, it was like being shot-up with living heroin. The symptoms that had threatened to bring him to his knees before, that miserable medley, became the polar opposite when the soul-stealing kiss was initiated. Peter groaned low in his throat when Venom deepened it, that familiar sensation flooding his brain with ecstasy that melted coordination of his limbs and made him feel spiritually disconnected with his physical body. In his sockets were his pupils blown, heart thumping cacophonous in his ears. He was barely able to stand, barely able to think in the wellspring of rapture flooded every vein and cell in his body. That which had been incomplete was whole again.

 

When Peter’s eyes cracked open again, the world wobbled and swayed, hazy and warm. Smiling blissfully, with the gait of a stumbling colt did he vacantly careen over the ledge, falling but a few feet into the vat of storm-run water below.

 

Then, as the waves caressed him, everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

Warning(s): M, choking

* * *

What was acrid water and nose-scrunching detritus gave way to something else: halcyon winds that roared like something frigid across a tundra, startling Peter awake. Panic set in before he quickly recalled what had happened, ascertained where he was. By all looks and whereabouts, it was the 86th floor of the Empire State Building, on the open-air observation deck that had long since been closed to the public. Or at least, it was well past the hours of operation for that day.

 

“Ow… How long was I out?” Peter grunted to himself, noticing that at least his mask was on. So, no one saw Peter Parker passed out here of all places. Gathering his feet beneath him, though the air was a bit blistery, it seemed to slow now that he was awake, only a slight chill in it.

 

**You’re welcome, by the way.**

 

Peter visibly flinched. “Thanks, Jiminy Cricket.” Though the quip was automatic, the realization that the encounter in the storm sewer hadn’t been some fever dream really packed a wallop once he saw Venom manifest a serpentine tendril with its head attached, tail twitching with interest at the brunet who glared at him. “Lemme guess, we’re doing this again. You’re taking my body for joy rides.” His voice became biting, embittered. “So, what’s the body count, JARVIS? How many funerals do I have to pay for and back by the Uncle Ben Foundation’s rainy day Venom-murder fund? Any heads you popped out while I was out?!”

 

Venom snarled and inky tendrils suddenly and powerfully arrested Peter to the pavement, snapping its fangs at him. **Saved you from drowning! No one died!** the symbiote railed back, which only seemed to incise Peter further.

 

Extricating himself manfully, Peter wheeled back and caught himself, lips pulled back in a snarl. “For how long, Venom? What’s it gonna be this time before you lose it? Before you decide some bad guy took it too far and you have to be judge, jury, and executioner?!” He stomped towards it, jabbing a finger accusingly that caused it to flinch back, their bond making his rage more potent. “Oh, but you can’t help it, right? You never can! Y’know, the whole symbiote name is damn misleading, you know why? Because there’s nothing symbiotic about it! You’re a parasite! A monster that’s only out for blood!”

 

With that, Venom roared within the confines of his mind, form becoming engorged and muscular as it pinned him to the wall with a slam, Peter recoiling as the impact created a deep crater in the cement. **WE. ARE. NOT. A MONSTER!** Venom seethed hotly, appendages coiling tightly around Peter’s throat as the vigilante gasped for air. **HOSTS MADE US LIKE THIS! HOSTS LIKE YOU! WERE NEVER A MONSTER,** _ **YOU**_ **MADE US THAT WAY!**

 

Peter’s face twisted with rage as he jammed his fingers in the symbiote’s tendrils ensnaring his neck and pried it free enough to speak, skin becoming flushed with anger where it had begun to turn blue. “Yeah, well thank the resident muscle-head around here for that! We had nothing to do with that! Fine, you want to blame him? Well, guess what?! You’re both at fault! It’s not just him. I don’t give a rat’s ass if you two were going to monthly Alliance of Evil meetings learning how to be supervillains. It’s your fault just as much as his!”

 

Venom let loose a vengeful caterwaul before wheeling back its fist to clip him in a savage right hook, connecting with Peter’s jaw in a vicious crack of bone. The impact sent the side of his face into the stone, certain there would be bruises to come. If it weren’t for his innate durability, Peter was sure that his jaw would’ve sailed clean off of its hinges. Though it had him seeing stars, he used the window of opportunity to take Venom in a vice and lift it, hurling it into the bars that encompassed the observation deck, uncaring if he was taken with it.

 

Though the hit connected, Venom clung to his form and Peter smacked into a wall of oozy ink, grunting before he bolted back to his feet before Venom could pummel him again. The symbiote’s lips still pulled back in a feral snarl, growling, **Don’t understand us. Wouldn’t know what it’s like.** It sounded winded, as if their issues were a brick wall they’d slam into again and again.

 

Peter scoffed bitterly. “What, understand what it’s like to be a completely psychotic monster that wants to tear off people’s heads and leave them for worm food? You do that! Even with guys like Flash, you corrupt them! Turn their rage into something monstrous, make us unrecognizable! Wanting to protect someone becomes ripping the head off the other guy!” He sucked in a hard breath, spitting out a loogie that had lingered from their brawl.

 

**Don’t understand...what’s it like!** Brows furrowing in confusion, bemusement was quickly replaced by a flight response as a tether looped around his head like black webbing as something living pulsed, completely engulfing his mind.

 

_Peter Parker disappeared. In his place was racing, panicked thoughts. From within a cramped, confined vessel did faceless eyes wearing reflective lenses circled it like a vulture, noting, injecting, hurting— **IT HURT** **S** **! PLEASE, MAKE IT STOP BUT** — _

 

_Everything grows quiet as sedatives are injected; it’s under hard, surgical light now. Gloves with strange, metal instruments pick it apart, prodding and pulling at the insides as seeds are extracted. **NO, WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GIVE THEM BACK, MY BABIES, MY CHILDREN** — _

 

_It’s dark again, but in the sewers. It’s living with hurt, fierce betrayal and the cold, miserable stab of abandonment. Pathetically subsiding on rats and other carrion to survive. Its head throbs with the memories, those miserable things with nothing else to feed from. Then, it becomes bright with and inferno— **NO IT HURTS PLEASE MAKE IT STOP** —_

 

_It’s a warmer memory now, of a blond man once part of the army that was decorated, a hero. Partner, friend. They worked hard, but they became friends. **Thank you, Flash, for everything** —_

 

_Something warmer still. **He chose us! He’s our friend!** There’s delight when it does heroic things, wants to be like its new friend. Wants to be like Spider-Man. The way they swing from building to building, and people like what they’re seeing in the sky. They see a hero. **I want to be a hero, too!**_

 

Peter gasped when he was finally expelled from the symbiote’s hold, catching himself and blinking rapidly, trying to reorient himself. Cautiously did he lift his gaze, Venom no longer a voracious being but something almost docile. Before he could say anything more, an unbidden memory springs to the fore of his mind.

 

_Uncle Ben is laying prone on the pavement, his shooter dashing through the gathered throng of people. Peter is there, holding his beloved uncle as he lays dying. He can’t speak, he can’t form words except the taste of that rage that would stay with him for the rest of his life. **With great power, comes great responsibility**. _

 

He can’t stop it. Even now, years later, that memory always got to him. Tears sprang to the corners of his eyes and Peter doesn’t bother fighting the need to tear his mask off, doing so and no longer twisted by rage. He slouches over, paralyzed and trembling at how fresh it feels, as though it were yesterday. “Why are you doing this?” he demanded shakily of Venom. “Why are you messing with my head like this?”

 

**Not tormenting,** Venom corrected, Peter taken aback by the tears he saw budding in its eyes, too. _Since when could symbiotes cry?_ **Can feel what you feel, Peter. Can feel what we do, too.**

 

“You...understand pain? Loss?” Peter broached after a long minute, the symbiote bobbing its head in affirmation. That was enough to make him clamp his mouth shut, flopping back to lean against the observation deck’s outer structure with a sigh. His eyes still stung, but he didn’t care to wipe away the tears. “...I didn’t know. In the past, all we ever felt was...rage. My rage, yours. Doesn’t matter. Rage, and pain. And everything bad a person could feel. Everything that had to do with hate. I didn’t think you could feel anything else.” He ran a hand through his hair, pausing partway before shaking it out again.

 

Peter didn’t object when he felt Venom slide by the nape of his neck and rest its head beneath his jawline, a warm, silky sensation. A living thing. Not the monster it was easier to make into. **Want to be a hero, Pete. Don’t want to be a villain. Don’t want to succumb to rage.** The brunet nodded obliquely.

 

“How do you know it won’t happen again?” He gestured vaguely. “How you know we won’t hulk out into just another bad version of Venom?” he asked tiredly, feeling a weight on his shoulders that hadn’t been there before.

 

A bit of a smile tugged on the symbiote’s features at ‘we,’ but Peter didn’t notice and Venom didn’t address it. **Flash made us good. Made us want to be good, until** **Mac got to us** **. Convinced** **us** **we were bad.**

 

“I mean, you don’t really make the best first impression, no offense. I think most average Joe’s are put off by the psycho-killer tendencies,” Peter said wryly, gazing sidelong while the symbiote huffed. Venom bristled indignantly, but didn’t rebuke him.

 

**Not like that anymore. Want to change. Want to be like Spider-Man.**

 

Peter looked dubious at that. “Funny, considering how you’ve wanted to kill me. Now you want to be like me. Lemme guess: if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em?” Venom regarded him sourly and nibbled his ear in retaliation, causing Peter to visibly flinch. “What? It’s a legitimate concern!” he protested.

 

Venom huffed and settled under his chin again. **Fine. Want to be like Flash. Better host than you,** it sniffed, settling on his collarbone.

 

Peter snorted. “Not that I care. I guess I should be thanking him for taming you a bit, huh?”

 

**You do care. Were jealous of Eddie whenever we were together.**

 

That alone was enough to upset the nascent calm, Peter scrambling to his feet as Venom enigmatically watched. “Hang on, back up! Come on, _jealous_? Can you maybe _try_ not to be a B-list villain over here?”

 

Without even speaking could he feel Venom’s presence emerge in his mind like coming up for breath, digging through their connection for a certain memory even though it made him feel nauseous to contemplate. Like hooking a film reel to a projector, silently did Venom wait as it played through that memory, the same, vivid emotions rising like bile up his throat. It was a sour, hollow, insecure heat that tasted decayed and sour. A memory of him in one of his contentious encounters with Venom back when Brock piloted it. “Okay, what’s the point? It’s anger, maybe a pinch of adrenaline thrown in. That’s not jealousy,” Peter retorted tartly, folding his arms expectantly.

 

Regarding him loftily, Venom dug through for another memory, this one older. Peter’s lips thinned until it played out as a memory of Mary Jane chatting with Harry Osborne, back when the two had been dating in college. Though less potent, that same feeling from the previous memory burbled like simmering water, realization betrayed on Peter’s features before being replaced by evasiveness. “Okay, so they’re both connected to anger. It doesn’t make them the same, Venom. Any college freshman taking Psych 101 can tell you that.”

 

However, that all seemed to crumble when Venom then played the memories in tandem, a blur of images, thoughts, feelings. Except, like reverb, one plane of emotions played louder than the other. But, like a pair of thumping hearts, they sounded the same.

 

“ _Will you get out of my head?!_ ” Peter cried out as he mentally and forcefully disconnected them, Venom screeching in distress before grappling back on to Peter’s psyche with a shudder. Shivering, it wound around Peter like a loose boa despite the man bristling still. “What are you trying to get at, anyways?”

 

Venom was quiet for a pregnant pause, seemingly afraid of being rejected again. **You were our first love,** it said finally and gingerly, shivering at the thought of being expelled again. **W** **as** **in love with Eddie for a long time.**

 

That explanation was enough to stun Peter, who then laughed nervously, smile manic. “Are you saying that our confrontations have been lovers’ quarrels this whole time? That you and I are like exes getting back together?” When Venom completely deadpanned, Peter chuckled mirthlessly. “This is crazy. Maybe _I’m_ crazy. Maybe I should get a TV deal. Like the Bachelor, but for freaky alien, sentient costumes and the loons they romance.”

 

As much as he wanted to deny it, an unsettling feeling of sense filled in the gap too well. That was enough to slowly sober him, connecting in his mind like a completed puzzle despite how vehemently he outright couldn’t vindicate it. Through his bond to Venom did the symbiote express tremulous fear of rejection, his tirade absolutely the cause of it. The symbiote shrank dejectedly, too shunned to want to speak up. And from past experience dating, it absolutely felt like it’d been jilted big-time. Enough to hang a feeling of guilt in the air, like he was being a complete scumbag for not returning the affections of an alien—his so-called _ex_.

 

“Can we just...take this one day at a time?” Peter brokered with an exasperated sigh, Venom perking hopefully while he ran his hand through his messy locks. “I mean, we just went from homicidal archenemies to some strange kind of contrition.” _And maybe leave the damning but embarrassing for another time?_ “You know, baby steps.”

 

Venom grinned widely, twitching excitedly. **Baby steps!** it echoed gleefully, nuzzling against Peter’s cheek who found the action strangely endearing.

 

Reluctantly, Peter stroked his fingers over the symbiote’s head who shivered pleasurably and purred like a motor in reaction, giving a small but uncertain smile.

 

Regardless of what happened, he had to keep this a secret. With Brock at large as Toxin and Thompson doing God knew what as Agent Anti-Venom, and with the larger heroic community liable to disapprove of this mightily, he had to keep this secret and impress that upon Venom, too. Though a nervous lump formed in his throat, since he and MJ had dropped their engagement, there was an uncanny kind of comfort that came from being bonded with someone that knew him inside and out.

 

_Someone._ Baby steps for him, too.

 

Maybe they could bridge the divide between them once and for all.

 

“Let’s...go home. Otherwise people are going to think I’ve got some Smeagol, Gollum craziness going on.”


	3. Chapter 3

Warning(s): M, none

* * *

Having the symbiote be part of him was...strange. The chaos and feral thinking from before had become more subdued, but not abolished. Peter knew he had to be aware of how he felt at all times, aware of the fact that his frame of mind was as potent a drug as the symbiote was for him. And he had contingency plans in place, too: having planned for this before, Parker was certain to keep his stores stocked with tranquilizers powerful enough to dope up the symbiote in case it got out of control, as begrudgingly as Venom agreed to it.

 

And the suit? He obviously couldn’t go all black, so they compromised: his usual number with the webbing dyed white and the blue darkened to black. Venom seemed pleased with it, proclaiming it was perfect. A blending of two distinct personalities, a covenant for a new symbiosis.

 

And maybe an end to their enmity.

 

But above all, Peter seemed the most unnerved by his own personality shift. He felt almost caffeinated, like his days in university plucking his way through grad school. Something he’d have to keep a close eye on, ensure it didn’t induce something worse.

 

At least the jealousy improved. What had been that morphed into a stalking kind of possessiveness, something that delighted Venom to no end. The symbiote dove and swam through it, in the rapture that was not only being wanted, but _coveted_. That its host would go ape trying to protect it.

 

That...wasn’t such a welcome side effect. But if that was the worst of it, then Peter could deal with looks sent his way his brain scrambled as being jealous. As long it was kept to themselves and that they’d strive towards a better change together.

 

But...God, maybe Venom had been right. That ineffable feeling Peter hadn’t been able to name, that gnawing emptiness that carved a crater in his psyche—had it really been the need to bond with Venom again? To be its... _first love_ , once again? That line of thought recalled Brock’s own deranged passion for the symbiote, how it contrasted so heavily with Agent Venom. Where one looked like the picture of normality, with Brock it’d been the twisted face of a nightmare.

 

Seated on a lone buttress high above the cramped walls of advertising in Times Square, myriad neon LED’s playing across opaque lenses like a mirror, the chaos of this place made his own almost feel mundane, normal. Like being in these circumstances was normal even when all the warnings—including his own—droned through his mind successively. It made his mind a battlefield, sick with consternation and indecision. Would it be better to turn it over to someone who could handle it? What happened if he was found out going against such a firmly lodged principle all because of what was some allegorical and almost actual addiction?

 

Venom murred unhappily in his mind, wriggling from the confines of the suit and dejectedly nestling on Peter’s shoulder. **What happened to baby steps?** it asked, clearly crestfallen at Peter’s own lack of faith. **Never had problem before Richards said something.**

 

“It’s not that easy,” Peter answered finally, a cold updraft washing over them. Perched like a gargoyle, he unfurled his legs to sit with a messy slouch. “Yeah, I know. We promised we’d try, right? But, we can’t forget that the number of bad hosts you’ve had greatly outweighs the good. Look at Mac, for crissake, and he was the most recent. I’m not saying you’re going to do it on purpose, but you have to admit the probability of it happening is high. That I’ll get hot under the collar and you’ll jump out swinging.”

 

The symbiote shifted uneasily, shrinking somewhat it shame. How did it explain to Peter that not every moment with hosts like Eddie was spent in murderous rages, or time with Flash hadn’t been all sunshine and daisies? That for every Mac Gargan and surging race to murder indiscriminately had also seen those same sentiments flare protectively for every time a woman or child was endangered when with Eddie, or he came close to taking a precious innocent life but couldn’t?

 

 **Can’t promise anything,** Venom admitted finally, huffing softly. **Maybe we are too corrupt. Maybe gone too far. But, want another chance. Want to try and be a hero and mean it.** Even though it knew better than to think words alone could sway him, right now it didn’t have much else. **Want to fight at your side again.**

 

As Peter slowly and solemnly nodded, Times Square suddenly became cleaved through by a squadron of police cars. Like a shot was Spider-Man ready to spring into action, Venom the one who manipulated his on-board police radio receiver and honing in on the relevant frequency.

 

_A robbery in a jewelry store._

 

 **Baby steps,** Venom repeated before the pair spring-boarded from their perch and into New York City traffic, the wind howling as they somersaulted in a swan dive before unleashing a long strand of webbing, Peter grateful that he at least didn’t have to worry about replenishing his stores for the time being. It snagged upon a building and they soared through traffic, Peter’s mind drifting into auto-pilot while they pursued the cop cars.

 

It seemed like a classic set-up. The kind of heist you’d watch on Saturday morning cartoons that got foiled by a cartoonishly brandished mallet or an inopportune drop by a sixteen ton weight or a grand piano. Of course, it was usually much different in the real world. Sometimes it was a desperate person who wanted to feed their family who had a gangster’s ultimatum looming over the lives of their loved ones. Rarer still was it being perpetuated by some garishly dressed, costumed newcomer who wanted their fifteen minutes of fame.

 

It was in the SOHO district that the robbery was taking place, some Italian emporium he didn’t really care for the name of. Venom twitched with excitement, feeling the symbiote carouse eagerly inside the walls of his body, Peter swatting his own shoulder when he swore he saw prehensile, noodly tendrils wriggle from it. “Hey, cut it out. No one’s supposed to know we’re back together, alright?”

 

**Sorry, Petey.**

 

Alright, he guessed his nickname wasn’t so bad coming from Venom, even if it crawled down his spine weirdly. Still getting used to the idea that they weren’t at each other’s throats—for now. There existed the possibility that Venom could paralyze his limbs or kill him from the inside-out, but wouldn’t it have happened sooner rather than later?

 

Having heard him, Venom pinched the material at his cheek and Peter swore he could feel something wet and sharp—its mouth? Shuddering unpleasantly, he could hear Venom chuckling throatily. **Spider-Man is much tastier alive,** the symbiote simpered teasingly, feeling a grin through the fabric.

 

“Yeah, mind taking me out to dinner first, buddy?” Okay, it was a lot chattier than he remembered. But, whatever. Getting his mind back to the task at hand, from what he could see, the perpetrator was still holed up inside. “We need to get in the back. Looks like they have a getaway car.”

 

 **Allow us,** Venom hummed cheerily before Peter yelped as he moved of his own volition, Venom dexterously maneuvering them to vault a corner and land squarely in the alleyway feeding into the jewelry store, a rusty pick-up truck waiting and likely the planned getaway car. Ensuring that they weren’t being watched, Venom’s enormous bulk that belied Peter’s whippet frame manifested in an enormous trunk of black matter, surging into the grille where disjointed clangor could be heard as the symbiote successfully sabotaged the car. Then, it returned into him like nothing had happened.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind next time I feel some repressed urge for teenage rebellion spring up and I need to hot wire a car.”

 

 **Not cool enough for that, Petey,** Venom chortled as the incapacitated car was left behind them, Venom flooding the jammed door lock with its substance and breaking it, then tearing it clean off its hinges. Thankfully, the dim approach of squad cars meant they were enforcing a perimeter that would make escape harder.

 

And...Peter felt brazen. Normally, he would’ve canvassed the area, maybe exchange a word or two with the police officer spearheading the pursuit, and otherwise would take his time instead of boldly walking through like it was a visit to his best buddy. Even if he was more impervious to attack than most people didn’t make innocent bystanders immune from anything of the like. You didn’t run in, guns blazing, before realizing that your actions always had _consequences_.

 

**With great power came great _possibility_. **

 

Bullets bounced off his suit like rubber, Peter almost careless in the way he exclaimed, “Whoa, hey! I just got this back from the dry cleaners! Don’t let all that hard work go to waste, will you?” To his right in the back offices just behind the counter, at least three people were hog-tied and gagged. “Just give me a second.” With an exaggerated wink, he sauntered off.

 

The robber in question seemed like a real hulking piece of work, bald with thick, sagging jowls and every inch of his ruddy skin pocketed with ugly tattoos indicative of someone that looked like a tried and true hardened criminal.

 

“Hey, I’m your new life coach, Mr. Spider-Man. First name, Your Friendly; middle, Neighborhood. But my friends and clients usually call me Spidey. Let’s shake on it, tiger!” The man in question balled his hand into a fist and with a pair of brass knuckles did he swing brazenly at the vigilante. “Whoa, anger management! Might need to schedule that in sometime,” Peter said conversationally while arresting one hand in his webbing and affixing it to the ground, the man flushed heatedly from agitation and building rage. Venom, of course, seemed too amused to become angered but its influence certainly did nothing to make the masked man any less cocky.

 

Eager to help, Peter was blindsided by the sudden red-to-black and uncontrollable gradient his left hand became, arm engorging as it more or less mimicked what Spider-Man had demonstrated and arrested the man’s trigger hand to the ground, leaving a syrupy, black morass that left the man’s firearm trapped to the ground along with it. “Psst, hey, what happened to teamwork and keeping things low-key?” he hissed to the symbiote who he was sure smiled sheepishly.

 

 **Wanted to do good, too!** Alright, that was fair, but he could only hope no one would notice the off-colored webbing.

 

From behind, it sounded as though someone has successfully loosened their gag. “Spider-Man,” someone addressed from behind, Peter whipping around, “there’s more of them upstairs. They’re—“

 

The man had no time to finish as a panicked shout of surprise sounded when a savage punch collided with his jaw that sent the vigilante off-balance and careening into the display cases, toppling over in a spray of upset jewelry and bouncing shards of jagged glass. “Ow,” was all Peter said in lame response, even though he could feel the symbiote snarl internally and mask split apart by a wicked, jagged maw. “Wait—not now, _you can’t_!”

 

That seemed enough to calm Venom’s almost automatic response to violence, remembering that the symbiote wasn’t doped up like it’d been with Flash. **...Sorry,** it muttered once they collected themselves and sprung back into action, springing back to their feet to deliver a retaliatory blow to the man who’d thought them down, a rather watered down impact that still sent the perpetrator sailing with a satisfying collision in the other set of display cases.

 

“Every hit in the kisser begins with Kay!” Peter crowed out after it connected, Spider Senses tingling when he felt another massive form loom over him and attempt to seize him in a headlock. Lashing back, he roughly elbowed his aggressor in the gut that elicited a loud ‘ _Oof!_ ’ in response, doubling them over before slamming them into ground harshly and hearing a bony crunch—likely the sound of a nose breaking, but regardless rendering them unconscious.

 

Venom itself twitched excitedly, like a dog wagging its tail in delight at the victory that was stacking up. From outside, he could hear the policemen announce that, from what they’d seen, the assailants had largely been apprehended.

 

 **Don’t forget the hostages!** Venom tactfully reminded him, Peter perking and dashing to the back.

 

“Sorry for the wait, ladies and gents. New York traffic is just awful like that,” Peter said as he began manfully tearing off their restraints at the wrists and ankles, mindful to gently untie their gags as the hostages worked sore jaws from being entrapped for so long.

 

“Thank you, Spider-Man,” one of them gratefully said with a touch to his shoulder, Peter rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

 

“Aw, it’s not me you should be thanking, it’s—“ Belatedly remembering that he couldn’t inform them about his unofficial new ‘partner,’ hastily did he correct himself, “those fine ladies and gents outside that did all the work. I wouldn’t have known what was going on if they hadn’t arrived on the scene,” he recovered quickly. Even though that was a lie, it might be better called an exaggerated truth.

 

In the proceeding moments did Spider-Man ensure that the premises were safe before the hostages safely left the building and policemen stormed in to apprehend the hardened, largely incapacitated criminals.

 

As Spider-Man vaulted and swung away, a warm feeling of satisfaction that came from all in a day’s work settled over him, even if Venom seemed strangely quiet.

* * *

 

Once he discreetly found an alleyway near his apartment, with Venom’s assistance was the suit withdrawn into ordinary civilian clothes. Peter Parker emerged from a shortcut, walking rather leisurely the rest of the way there. As an age-old excuse, he publicly affixed a Bluetooth earpiece on the shell of his ear where it was visible so talking to Venom wouldn’t appear so bizarre.

 

“Why are you so quiet? We did good today; you were kinda a hero. Shouldn’t you be excited?” Peter quietly asked at a crosswalk when no one was looking, the only one at his end of the intersection. The brunet’s skin twitched when he felt the symbiote coil around his wrist like a bracelet, something he assumed was pacifying to it.

 

 **Almost lost control. Wanted to bite their heads off,** Venom replied bluntly, voice flat.

 

Peter pursed his lips, pocketing his hands as they crossed the street when it was time. “But you didn’t. You stayed in control,” he reasoned neutrally, for once curious as to why Venom wasn’t more excited.

 

 **Almost blew your cover,** Venom volleyed back, huffing.

 

Spying a bodega on the corner, remembering what Flash had said about the symbiote needing phenethylamine, Peter smiled conspiratorially to himself as he made a beeline for it and browsed through the candy section despite Venom’s feigned apathy.

 

“There were three criminals whose heads you didn’t bite off, so,” From the shelf he plucked free three Snickers bars, heading towards the cashier, “so you get three candy bars as a reward. That’ll be our new system from here on out. That way, you get the nourishment you need, and no one goes loopy.”

 

Whether he imagined it or not, he swore the symbiote shivered gratefully that followed them until they returned home to his apartment. There, Venom emerged and peacefully ate the morsels while Peter sat at his desk tinkering with his equipment.

 

Though quiet, it was companionable and felt for all the world like things were improving between two formerly harrowed enemies.

 

**Thank you.**

 

Maybe he imagined that, too, but somehow he doubted it.


	4. Chapter 4

Warning(s): M, graphic vomit scene

* * *

He couldn’t sleep that night.

 

Sweat soaked his sheets, Peter tossing and turning spasmodically, legs flailing off the covers and leaving him bare and shivering where sweat varnished his skin. The blankets on meant a casing of unpleasantly moist fabric that clung hotly to his skin, while exposure meant feeling too cold and shuddering in the early spring air.

 

His dreams were haunted. Formless, thoughtless, he was running through some landscape like a forest to an unknown destination, stars wheeling dizzily overhead while he raced through thickets of trees that sailed by in a blurs. Their silhouettes whipped across his features, and he hunted. Padding on rough underbrush, feeling like teeth and claws. Because his prey wasn’t human, it was a thing, a sensation.

 

Cloying, craving want that was driving him mad. Something so base and instinctual that instinct itself couldn’t contain what it was. He didn’t feel like someone, but a thing, governed by chemicals and base wants that ran through the forest for something intangible, indescribable.

 

His dream-self plunged over an abyssal gulf and his stomach dropped, heaving himself awake.

 

Peter awoke in a rough panic as his breathing was shallow and hard, rib cage swelling and contracting painfully with each breath as he was up in an adrenalized rush and into the bathroom, eyes still beset with a heavy sleep as the brunet braced himself on his sink’s edge and lifted his heavy head.

 

What stared back at him was that fathomless silhouette, opal eyes winged back, and a Cheshire grin too big for his head.

 

Peter reeled back wildly and stumbled on his feet, gasping, “What the hell?!” Startled by his own human voice, he visibly flinched. Ranging his gaze rapidly, clumsily did he grip the sink again and hauled himself up, faced with the same apparition as before. “What the hell…?”

 

 **This is us. We are Venom.** Peter’s eyes widened in shock at the sound of Venom’s voice before his panic cooled. **...Do you want us to leave?**

 

“ **NO!** ” Peter shouted suddenly, a high note of dissent and desperation coloring his voice, heart pounding in the wake of it. “No, just... _no_.” Thoughtlessly did Peter slide on to the floor, gripping his skull as if it would somehow melt beneath the weight of all the heat threatening to crush it, barely tempered than decimated on an anvil.

 

The serpentine head of the symbiote emerged from his shoulder, coiling with a familiar touch that set some of the heat at ease, or at least stoked it worse than before. **What are you thinking about?** came the smooth and silvery purr of its voice, goading. But, towards what?

 

Peter leaned back and panted, feeling too hot. Like he was on fire and nothing could extinguish it. Though the tile was cool at first, it quickly was sapped of it and became like coals to his touch. “I was...chasing something,” he said weakly, struggling to form coherent thoughts. “Except, it wasn’t a someone and I wasn’t me, just...an abstraction. An abstraction chasing something intangible.”

 

Venom hummed thoughtfully from his shoulder, nuzzling into the man’s pulse. **Jealous** **y** **. Insecurity. Went too long without us,** it surmised smugly, purring loudly.

 

Peter lowered his hands somewhat, glancing incredulously at the Klyntar who only regarded him enigmatically back. “I wasn’t jealous—okay, jealous of who? _What?_ ” Peter demanded of it, practically burying himself in a hole he couldn’t see.

 

 **Eddie. Flashhhhhh,** Venom supplied in a satisfied hiss, eyes seeming to lid suggestively.

 

Peter felt his insides roll and twist painfully, crying out with a whimper as tears beaded in his eyes, clutching his midsection while heaving himself on the toilet, fumbling with the lid and nearly tearing it off the hinge before the contents of his stomach disgorged into the bowl, the echoes of his retching and the acrid stench causing his eyes to water and stomach turn anew.

 

The thought of them. It made him so sick he couldn’t think, couldn’t deal. Peter blindly groped for the sink and for a glass, finding a plastic one he used for rinsing that he somehow managed to fill with water the saw it overflow the edge, half chugging water and half spitting it up and out again his throat was so raw and mind so repulsed from the acerbity he acted on some scrambled instinct to flee from it.

 

Dropping the cup with a clatter, the gentle but too-loud stream of water from the tap, Peter collapsed in a tangle of shaky limbs and clammy skin to the cool tile that burned against his skin before some hard feeling of equilibrium came. He blinked dazedly, mouth slightly slack and bearing a still green complexion from the sudden bout of sickness. Stomach empty and cramping, cold and heat crawled balmy and nauseating upon his skin prickled with goose-flesh.

 

Overhead, the pasty, dull light of his bathroom flickered and something dark swam over his vision. Despite being unable to move, completely petrified, his heart raced and his breathing galloped shallowly as the darkness encroached over his vision, feeling like a hot, dark vat of water was being poured over him and when he breathed, another’s voice gasped like it was processed through a voice-changer.

 

But, it slowed. Tranquility. Easing the sickness, the bile, the cramping—everything. Ebbing away like a distant memory and he gulped down mouthfuls of air like he hadn’t before.

 

 **You needed us,** a voice gently caressed his mind, suspended like water. **Went too long without us.** It was understanding, soothing as a lover’s voice.

 

 _I know. I’m sorry._ Something hot spilled into and from his eyes, head lolling to the side. _I just—hearing about them. I couldn’t… I couldn’t handle it._ He sounded exhausted beyond belief, throat closing tearfully.

 

**We know. Rest. Sleep. Keep watch over you, darling. Promise.**

 

_Okay, just...don’t leave me, please._

 

**We won’t. Never leave you again. _Ever._**

* * *

Peter awoke with a jolt the morning when his alarm clock starting blaring at exactly 7:30, sitting up dumbly in bed for a long moment as he tried to remember what happened the night before. Yet, aside from his stomach feeling decidedly empty, it didn’t feel like he’d just gone through an episode of withdrawal.

 

A hyper-realistic dream? Lucid, maybe? He’d have to take notes on it later. Something he’d been doing since he and the symbiote had bonded again.

 

Which, strangely enough, Venom didn’t have anything to say that morning. Doubtful that the night before had passed without incident, he dug through their bond only to have the Klyntar impishly evade him. Deciding against pursuing it further, Peter set on his morning routine and tried to push it from his mind.

 

By the time he was chewing through a particularly bland bowl of cereal like a cow did its cud, his phone began vibrating. Automatically he picked it up, but when he saw the name the flashed on the screen, he almost dashed his phone against the wall out of reflex. Badly resisting the urge, a cold sweat enveloped him within moment as he swallowed thickly, grasping the phone with a trembling hand and sliding his thumb across the screen to answer, leaving a smear of sweat in its wake.

 

“Uh, hey Flash. How’s it going?”

 

“Been awhile, Parker. Hey, you doing anything today? I was passing through to visit my mom and wondered if maybe we could get a drink.” Flash Thompson always had been charismatic, the type that drew people in. Especially after high school when he’d begun shaping up after being the worst bully he’d ever faced in his youth. Since college, the pair had become close friends if not best despite their difficult pasts. But, Flash had reconciled and moved past the grade-school bully.

 

You wouldn’t think they were friends by the way Peter clutched his phone so tightly that the screen almost cracked. Sucking in a steadying breath, he answered, “Just had a photo safari in mind, but nothing else.”

 

He could hear the smile in Flash’s voice that made his gut clench unpleasantly. “Really? Great! Wanna meet at that new bar by your place? I hear their fries are real piping hot. See you this afternoon?”

 

After an unusually long pause, Peter smiled tightly. “Yeah, sure. See you then, Flash,” he finished tensely, hanging up as soon as he concluded and setting down the phone so harshly it slammed audibly. Dragging his hand over his face, the only thing he could think of that would absolve the gnawing jealousy in his gut was meat.

 

 **Be nice to see Flash again,** Venom admitted after a long and quiet pause, twitching happily.

 

Turning his head to glare murderously at the symbiote, it merely disappeared before he could get in another word edgewise.

* * *

They passed the hours going on a pleasantly uneventful photo safari, managing to use Venom’s subtler abilities—such as shapeshifting—to get into otherwise inaccessible areas. Amazingly, they ended up having fun together, Peter managing to forget the inevitable until his phone buzzed in his pocket and the hour of their meeting was upon them, thankfully fairly close so walking wasn’t out of the question.

 

As they walked towards their destination, with several minutes to burn did Venom fill them with frankly agonizing conversation.

 

 **Flash has lots of good memories of you, Petey,** Venom chattered, feigning obliviousness to the mounting jealousy growing in the brunet. **Admires Spider-Man a lot. Wanted to be just like you.**

 

“Can we just...change the subject?” Peter hissed in exasperation, souring any hope he had to be anything but standoffish and surly towards Flash even though there was no reason to be. But with each second that passed, almost as if by some desire for self-mutilation did he torture himself with Venom’s memories of their time together as Agent Venom, feeling unpleasantly hot that taking off his coat in the chilly weather couldn’t abate.

 

Of course Venom knew how Peter felt. But after years of cold enmity from the vigilante that had first stolen its heart, the heated jealousy and possessiveness was a world of difference it had greedily wanted all this time. Where betrayal and the hot blade of abandonment had scalded them for the longest time after Peter’s initial rejection, this it drank and drowned in like the sea. Like a dehydrated man in the desert plunged into a verdant jungle and thriving in the abundance.

 

 **May suspect something is off. Have to be careful,** the symbiote bewared, coiling in Peter’s rib cage like a snake.

 

It was then Peter took pause in the middle of crossing an intersection, espying Flash who was waiting with a look of pleasant anticipation on his face. When faced with the real deal, seeing his friend there, book in hand while looking relaxed in his wheelchair made a potent guilt stab him in the breast.

 

“What am I thinking...” Peter lamented miserably, head bowing. “Flash is my friend. I don’t have any reason to be jealous. He— He wouldn’t try anything.” _He’s not like Brock. He’s not a killer out to kill symbiotes or take what was never his to begin with_. With a renewed sense of conviction against his baser emotions did Peter muster up a wavering smile. Something better than looking like a scowling cretin.

 

When they finally arrived at the small cafe, Flash immediately brightened when he saw Peter, a gooey warmth reacting from Venom at the sight of its former host. His hair was a bit shorter than when he saw his friend last, likely attributable to his new position as assistant coach at West Philadelphia High School. Looking more clean cut than before, Venom trilled contentedly. **Happy to see you, too. More than you know…** Venom purred internally, Peter finding himself unable to bother asking what the symbiote even meant.

 

They were close friends. Of course they were happy to see one another.

 

“Long time no see, Flash. Assistant coach, huh? Should’ve told me sooner; I would’ve worked on my push-up technique before coming,” Peter greeted with a hearty chuckle as both men shook hands firmly before finding a table outside the bar, the weather absolutely gorgeous that day. Sunny, warm light glowed on their skin and a cool breeze whisked away the worst of the cold. Late spring would be on them soon and he couldn’t wait.

 

“Not all of us can be nerds, Parker. I have to contribute to society somehow,” Flash replied with a laugh, then sobering with a softness in his eyes that Peter had never really noticed before.

 

“Your mom and Jesse—they handling everything alright?” Peter broached quietly, the blond pursing his lips and offering a mirthless smile.

 

“They’re strong women, but—yeah, Carl’s death has been really hard on her, after that incident. She’s going to check into an in-patient treatment program near where my mom is. They just...need to heal after everything, you know? We all do.” Flash’s voice carried a deep exhaustion with it, staring down at the menu neither had opened yet. “How’s Aunt May? It’s been awhile since I’ve seen her. ‘least, since dad’s funeral.”

 

A guilty quiet loomed over them as Peter felt a deep shame well within him. He felt horrible for being so territorial and tetchy over Venom when Flash had gone through the wringer over his own family, the Spider Island incident notwithstanding. “She’s been really invigorated by volunteering for F.E.A.S.T. I think it’s a good fit for her, helping out. I think she wants to start volunteering for that inner-city volunteer teacher program next. She’s seriously on a roll,” Peter replied with the best forced smile he could muster, the evasive kind.

 

But, for better or worse, Flash knew when he was fibbing. While their checkered pasts had likely fostered them for the worst reasons, here and now it wasn’t his fault for noticing.

 

“Pete, you been alright? I didn’t want to bring it up just now, but from one fellow overachiever to another, you look like you’ve been spreading yourself a little thin there,” Flash ventured with a gentle, worn smile.

 

A cold, sickly sensation reared his throat and clumped there. Peter swallowed dryly, almost lunging for his water and gulping some down. “Guessing I look like crap? It’s alright, Flash. My mascara won’t run on my way to the bathroom, promise,” Peter quipped with a crooked smile, just barely noticing the slight blush that colored Flash’s cheeks and the way he smiled shyly, laughing softly.

 

 **He’s fond of you. Smiled like that all the time around Betty,** Venom remarked with fiendish delight, coiling and curling happily against the cage of his ribs. **Finally noticing it, too? Always were painfully dense, Petey.**

 

Clearing his throat, that impasse allowed Flash to continue, if with a sustained genial but worried expression. “Peter, I’m not going to be a mother hen here, but listen—if you’re turning to things you normally wouldn’t to to help with the load, you know you can tell me, right? It takes one to know one. I’m not saying you’re one, but if it’s something you’re just starting to get into, it might not be a bad idea to get help before it’s too hard to stop.”

 

Euphemistically putting it, Flash thought he was developing an addiction to something—not _someone_. He could feel the symbiote’s disapproval, but pushed it down instead of letting the fury of emotion roll in him. Feeling twitchy, he opened up the menu and tried to distract himself by selecting something from it when they had yet to. “I’m not, promise. It’s just too much caffeine chasing inspiration. You know how it is with us science-y types,” Peter said flippantly, avoiding Flash’s scrutinizing gaze. “You gonna order anything? Those fries you like so much are discounted today.”

 

Grimly and disbelieving did Flash peruse his own, skepticism weighing heavily. “Yeah. Think I’m going to get that and a burger. You, Parker?”

 

“Lentil soup,” Peter said without missing a beat, likely not of his own influence. It did have Venom’s favorite chemical in it, after all. “Uh, Aunt May asked me to scope out the competition. Not that it’ll be as good as what she used to make, or anything.” He cracked a grin, but it felt nervous.

 

_Do you think he knows?_

 

 **Thinks you hate us with every fiber of your being. Drugs or alcohol more likely contender,** Venom replied back. **Still doesn’t mean he doesn’t suspect something wrong. Might want to keep eyes on him.**

 

 _Yeah, no kidding. Host to host, right?_ Venom made a vague sound of agreement.

 

Within the hour, they’d ordered their dishes and the conversation became friendlier, but the reality still hung heavily over Peter: if anyone would find out, it was Flash. That, or Brock who was still at large. And if anyone would know the stepping stones down the path of symbiote addiction, it was Flash. Except, Venom wasn’t doped up this time around. He was wrestling with the fullest brunt of the Klyntar and the effects would start to really show sooner or later.

 

Midway through the conversation, having been laughing in the wake of an awful pun on Peter’s behalf, Flash casually segued into another topic that made Peter’s blood curdle. “So, Pete, you hear about Mac Gargan recently? Pretty interesting, what happened.”

 

Peter offered a wary smile. “Venom’s newest boy toy?” The symbiote in question huffed at that. “I only know that he was found without it. Must’ve wanted the newer model.”

 

Flash appeared terse, taking a sip from his root beer. “Spider-Man was there that day,” he said, Peter visibly freezing. “Think he might’ve seen something? I mean, as his friend, maybe something dropped via the grapevine that only you know about.”

 

Peter feigned thoughtfulness, but the concerned look he wore was convincing enough. “...Yeah, I don’t know. Spidey’s looking into it, but they haven’t found any leads. Him or anyone else. Maybe it found a gator to make home of until it finds something better, but you know he’s going to keep an eye out more than anyone.”

 

“Good to know we’ve got him at our back, huh?” Flash’s voice lilted somewhat, diffusing the worst of the tension.

 

“Don’t you know it.”


	5. Chapter 5

Warning(s): M, none

* * *

For all the grace and tact he possessed while out with Flash collapsed in a matter of minutes the second he stepped over the threshold of his apartment door was Peter off like a bullet into his bathroom, retching violently and blindly into the toilet for the second time that day. With fumbling hands did he manage to flush it, stumbling weakly towards the sink and rinsing his mouth out again.

 

Slumped over the edge, Peter weakly hauled himself up while the riot of suppressed jealousy and possessiveness railed against his mind, making his head throb. “How are you not affected by this?” he demanded of his toothsome reflection in the mirror, Venom staring back at him enigmatically.

 

 **Flash cleansed us, remember? Learning to cope with your rage is difficult, but doable,** the symbiote answered succinctly, Peter jutting his jaw indignantly.

 

“I’m not angry. Still don’t know where you get that idea from,” Peter groused as he rinsed his mouth out again and staggered from the bathroom and into his living room where he flopped face-first on the couch. Turning his head to the side, Venom manifested as a serpentine head that studied him closely.

 

 **Wrong idea of anger. Too used to anger displayed by bad guys. Sometimes, anger can be righteous. Christ got angry in temple when people used it as market. You get angry when villains use city as means to selfish ends,** Venom explained as Peter rolled on his back, seemingly in for a lecture that day. As if the notion was supposed to placate him, somehow. **All began when you were young. Anger started when you became downtrodden.**

 

Peter folded his hands on his abdomen and stared up at the ceiling, feeling Venom restively lay on his sickly churning stomach. It made sense, that his anger came from a source that was arguably good. Anger that was productive, geared towards bad guys and people who stole candy from babies. So that explanation satisfied him, at least. “How does that explain how I get towards you? There’s no sense in it.”

 

 **Hate is the extreme opposite of love. Hate often comes from what was once love.** Smile broadening and wolfish, it poignantly touched noses with Peter. **You’re lovesick,** it concluded gleefully.

 

At that, Peter scowled and petulantly grabbed one of the sofa pillows and smothered Venom under it with a squeak, even though it was completely useless given the symbiote was nearly intangible. “My house, my rules. No pseudoscience.” Peter grew thoughtful for a moment, then retracting the pillow as a comically pancaked Venom gingerly reformed. “Now, maybe if this had something to do with Limerence and how it links to the symbiotic connection between Klyntar and human beings and its effects on brain chemistry, or how it could cause a chemical imbalance in the endocrine system, I might be more inclined to listen.”

 

 **Not wrong, just layman’s term for it,** Venom grumbled lowly, only to be met with an unimpressed quirk of Peter’s brow, daring it to continue. Deciding to get comfortable, Venom liberally coiled itself around Peter’s neck who charitably lifted his head to facilitate it, some satisfaction at its host welcoming its want for affection, it wormed beneath his jaw and sighed contentedly when its head lay at last over his heart. Idly did he caress his fingers along its length, Venom rumbling and squirming happily. When the expectant pall of silence grew loud enough did it speak again. **Wasn’t wrong. Cells in body still have our...essence. Trigger emotional responses, like jealousy. React to being bonded intensely, but worse from being disconnected for so long.** **Always was intense. Lovesick.**

 

Though the explanation soothed his chagrin somewhat, Venom’s insistence that it was love was what bothered him. All this time, he’d been trying to justify the symbiotes as being inhuman, demonizing their connection to the hosts because it made it easier to contend with. Putting your enemies in a box wasn’t always a good thing, but sometimes it had to be done so they were easier to lock away and forget about. Maintaining that the connection was nothing more than an organic kind of addiction made the past easier to digest, including…

 

Peter’s brows furrowed together, guilt flowering in his chest.

 

It made it easier to justify every cruel thing they did to each other. To imprison Venom in tortuous conditions and say it was for the greater good.

 

That pang of guilt made him roll on his side and embrace Venom closely, the symbiote chirping inquisitively but understanding this was but a drop in the bucket against all the cruelties that had been mounted against one another. “...I’m sorry,” he murmured in a voice smaller than he’d heard from himself before, even in times when he and MJ had fierce rows that ended with both hurt. This felt like more than that. This was a reconciliation that was long overdue, but a road that needed to be walked down in the first place.

 

 **Don’t know if I can forgive you yet, Petey. Might be awhile,** Venom admitted honestly, even as it purred deeply when Peter clung possessively to it, limbs furling inwards. **But,** it continued, nuzzling into his pulse, **this is a good start.**

 

Feeling a wave of exhaustion cascade over him, the brunet smiled tiredly. “Yeah...” he replied dreamily, all before falling into a deep, uninterrupted sleep.

 

He swore he could feel himself sinking into dark, hot ocean, but for once he welcomed it with every fiber of his being.

* * *

It was by late afternoon that action sprang into the city like birds, gnawing into the soft underbelly with fangs and claws. With a new understanding flourishing between them, Peter felt a new sense of ease. With Venom’s dedication to reform and the cleanse it had embarked on not that long ago, and with Peter’s honest foray into reconciliation that they owed to one another, new doors opened. That salivating connection he’d only once shared with Eddie saw them communicating in thoughts and images, proving how useless words could be.

 

“I think we’re close, Captain Watanabe,” Peter confirmed into his radio receiver once they zeroed in on the target site, a warehouse on the harbor near the mouth of the Hudson River. “T-minus two minutes if you aren’t counting.”

 

“Try and keep the quips to a low, will you, Spider-Man? I’m not even halfway through my fifth cup of coffee,” Yuri replied sardonically which earned a chuckle from the masked vigilante.

 

“Sure thing. Anyways, I’ve got the target in my sights. I’ll keep you posted,” Peter signed off with a click, swinging to the roof of an adjacent warehouse. The briny sea breeze made it cooler than it was in the city, but not unpleasantly so. Inside, Venom was raring for action and the hope for some food they could actually keep down.

 

As if anyone could cease being surprised, the power vacuum left behind by the Crime-Master Flash had dealt with meant the petty echelons that had been beneath him were vying for power. Like ants making a tower out of themselves not out of teamwork, but a futile attempt to reach the top. He almost felt sorry for them if it weren’t for the fact that they were moving untold stashes of army-grade weapons into the city never meant anything good.

 

Luckily, Venom had enough intel that they could likely out maneuver them.

 

Coming to the second story of the warehouse, where some offices were, Spider-Man designated one that appeared totally abandoned and used Venom’s inky tendrils to pop the lock and quickly dart inside. Thankfully, his Spider Sense seemed relatively quiet, meaning that infiltration would continue to be easy, and his plan was simple: install small bombs on the security systems, discreetly phone the police, and dispatch every aggressor before they came. A tried and true Spidey method.

 

Even if Venom wanted to swing in, metaphorical guns blazing. _Maybe another time, Venom._

 

**Pussy.**

 

From behind the tin door of the office room, the rapid staccato of a semi-automatic and the retort of returning fire could be heard ricocheting loudly from within the hollow confines of the warehouse. “Watch my back, alright?” he asked of Venom who was eager to comply. They were starting to finally build synergy after their earlier understanding.

 

Through a window that fed into the main atrium, Spider-Man was able to discreetly sidle out and into the fray, perching himself on one of the struts that spanned the breadth of the roof. Yet, he wasn’t the only web-slinger present.

 

From below, Agent Anti-Venom was engaged in single-combat with several assailants at once, Venom twitching anxiously at the sight of Flash. **Let’s help him!** the symbiote urged of him, Peter already getting an idea as to how.

 

“Way ahead of you.”

 

When Anti-Venom had his back turned, Peter made dexterous use of their surroundings. Using his projectile webbing was he able to sling two at once and then use the rails as natural pulleys to haul them skyward and leave them helplessly suspended while the other arachnid was embroiled in combat, poor lighting making it difficult to see.

 

From there, another two were similarly hoisted up, then another pair. The Agent either didn’t seem to notice, or thought that the shootout was resulting in several being knocked out or simply killed. Venom was merrily humming his theme song he’d remembered hearing during some odd awards ceremony, smiling at the symbiote’s antics.

 

From below were more men called in, reducing their numbers to just half a dozen of the twelve already arrested in webbing and wriggling uselessly through muffled shouting. Some stray bullets did strafe them and nearly take out one of his lenses, but Venom was quick to repair the damage to the point that it was almost too easy.

 

Another two, then the last two.

 

“What…?” Agent Anti-Venom gaped in confusion at the suddenly deserted warehouse, all before Spider-Man dangled upside-down and glided downwards in a thin string on webbing.

 

“Uh, hey. Hope you don’t mind the impromptu partnering. Gotta admit, that went a lot better then most one-legged races,” Spider-Man quipped behind the Agent’s back, the man whirling around with a warm tone that took to the other man’s voice.

 

“Guess I shouldn’t have been too surprised. You have a fun time wrangling these crooks?” the stark-white vigilante teased, Venom both wary and warming affectionately at the sound of Flash’s voice. Holstering his guns, he thrust his hands out to shake, which Peter regarded warily.

 

“Uh, hey, you don’t mind maybe retracting your buddy, do you? Didn’t have that great an encounter the last time it was with Brock,” Peter said to the other man, glad his smokescreen had validity to it. After all, it’d been fairly public that when Anti-Venom had first been conceived, one of the first supers he’d tried to “cure” was Spider-Man himself—both of the lingering essences of Venom and consequentially his irradiated powers as a result, nearly losing his ability altogether. But, Flash was more than understanding and retracted his symbiote to reveal a bare hand to shake.

 

“Hey, it’s no problem. But, thanks for your help, Spider-Man. It’s nice knowing I have some allies afoot,” Flash said with a grin beneath his mask, shaking his hand warmly. He touched a hand to his shoulder, Venom shuddering pleasurably despite the stab of jealousy Peter involuntarily felt as he flinched away from the contact. “Huh. You alright, Spidey?”

 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Fine. Guess I’m still kinda grossed out by this place. Smells like 80 stinky jocks got locked in the locker room for a week,” Peter lied while exaggeratedly wrinkling his nose, earning a terse laugh from Flash. “You plan on sticking around?”

 

“Not really. I have to keep moving. I caught wind of the cops on their way here, and I’m assuming you’re working with them? It’s been nice working with you, though,” Flash said while furling his symbiote over his hand again, fixing his mask and ensuring everything was in place. He waved before slinging himself into the rafters and a chorus of police sirens and flashing red and blue lights waited for him outside while Flash made his getaway, Peter’s expression withdrawn but concerned.

 

“You think he suspects something?” Peter asked in the wake of silence between Flash’s departure and the police just beginning to pool out from their cars and inspect the premises, paying them no mind as of yet.

 

 **He might, but couldn’t tell. Too dangerous to attempt probing,** Venom replied as the first team of police began streaming in, flashlights shining on their handiwork.

 

“Guess we’ll just have to wait and see, huh?”

* * *

Despite the relative success of their sting and Captain Watanabe reporting the wealth of information they were able to uncover, Peter couldn’t help but feel displaced by Flash’s sudden appearance. He supposed it was understandable. Vigilantes traveling rarely could keep their feet out of the water, always having to take a dip even if in territory that was far from home. Even if Long Island technically was Flash’s home before he’d moved to Philadelphia, it still made him wary. A feeling that began at the warehouse and followed him all the way home.

 

“I still think he’s got his ear to the ground with us, Venom,” Peter said aloud when the symbiote chose to manifest, perching itself on the brunet’s shoulder as he busily cooked dinner for two that night. A hearty meal of spaghetti and meatballs to make up for the last few days of being unable to keep anything down, hoping the symptoms of their reuniting wouldn’t prolong the suffering. “I mean, it takes one to know one. If anyone’s gonna be a bloodhound about finding out what really happened after Mac was arrested, it’s him.”

 

 **Maybe. Maybe he’ll listen and understand what’s going on now,** Venom replied as it snaked over his shoulder and let its long, prehensile tongue coil around three uncooked meatballs and swallowed them down whole, purring as it smacked its lips contentedly.

 

With the plastic spoon he was using to stir the sauce did Peter playfully chastise Venom with a gentle boop to its snout, Venom blinking reflexively but licking the sauce left behind away. “Yeah, true. Flash’s pretty grounded compared to Brock’s messianic tendencies.” Turning off the stove, having a sufficient amount for two, at his table, side-by-side, did he load up two dishes full of spaghetti and meatballs (more for Venom who had the bigger appetite of the two) and set them down at the table.

 

Pausing before he took his first bite (compared to Venom who was shoveling as much food down its gullet as possible), he glanced at the voracious symbiote. “Do you miss him? Brock, I mean,” he asked before turning away, already anticipating that he wouldn’t like the answer.

 

And Venom did, swallowing down a mouthful of spaghetti. It averted its eyes, seeming to shrink away. **...Yes. Flash was good, yes, but...Eddie—** it tried, searching for the words to say. **Eddie was like a drug. Irresistible. Wanted us so much, made us feel full and wanted and possessed.** _ **All**_ **the time.** **Not just sometimes.**

 

Peter’s gaze darkened and he suddenly felt his stomach drop, blood curdling coldly in his veins. A shot of panic roared through the symbiote as it coiled and clung around the despondent man’s neck, desperate to placate him. “Yeah, I know. I saw it in your memories,” Peter replied tonelessly, sliding his plate away from him.

 

 **Petey—** Venom protested, pressing their brows together even while Peter remained stubbornly stoic. **Petey, look.** Across the symbiote’s chest did the emblem that first formed in stark ivory against its black coat manifest, bare and frank for Peter to see. **Flash and Eddie** **important, but—began with you! Everything started with you, and now back together… Meant to be like this. We’re supposed to be together.**

 

Wordlessly did Peter capture the symbiote’s lips by his teeth, Venom’s eyes wide in shock before it shivered pleasurably and succumbed to the kiss, tongues laving hotly together as they kissed passionately, a hot stab of lust beginning in the symbiote that made it press yearningly into it, mewling needily. All before Peter nipped its lips with a sly grin and then resumed eating like nothing had happened, leaving Venom alone with its burgeoning arousal.

 

“Finish your spaghetti before it gets cold,” Peter teased with a wink, Venom huffing as it fumed at Peter before gorging itself on Peter’s food pettily, leaving barely a quarter left despite how it made the man break out into gregarious laughter, not having laughed that hard in what felt like the longest time. At that, Venom bristled and then lunged for the stove and slurped down the sauce, inhaled the rest of the meatballs, and swallowed every last noodle for itself. By then, Peter almost fell out his chair and was pounding his fist on the table, eyes tearing up with mirth.

 

“Sorry, buddy!” he apologized insincerely, wiping a tear away, Venom glaring balefully at him while picking its teeth clean with its tongue. It rolled on its side, pleasantly full but pouting.

 

While leaving Venom alone to let its food digest, Peter idly thumbed through the news feed on his phone, skimming for anything interesting. His sting with the police had already made headlines, as predicted, but something else caught his attention that made his blood run cold.

 

**VIOLENT MURDER OF DRUG CARTEL MEMBERS IN NEW YORK CITY JAIL. BODIES FOUND CANNIBALIZED AND MAIMED.**

 

Steeling himself, he clicked the article and past a pop-up that warned of graphic imagery. There, pictures of the bodies were found viciously splattered in their cells like a slaughterhouse floor, zooming in on the bite marks. That looked like a shark had somehow come ashore and mauled them to death.

 

“Toxin,” Peter breathed, feeling a hollow pit carve its way from his stomach. He suddenly lost all appetite, transfixed in horror at the carnage on his screen. He felt Venom curl around his neck and nuzzle into his pulse, attempting to soothe his distress. “...We have to stop him. We can’t let him walk free.”

 

Venom nodded gravely, understanding. **We’re with you, Petey. Won’t go into this alone.**

 

“I know. Sooner or later, Brock’s gonna find out about us. And when he does, we’ll have to give it our all,” Peter said grimly, lips thinning. Sure, he’d taken on Brock before and could hold his own against the likes of Carnage. But Toxin as of late had become unhinged with Eddie as its host, a vortex of insanity and slaughter of the likes even Kassady paled in comparison to lately. He dragged a hand through his hair, sighing. “We’ll start first thing tomorrow.”

 

**Okay, Petey. We’ll be there for you, promise.**


	6. Chapter 6

Warning(s): M, violence

* * *

It was a drastic measure he didn’t want to take, but he assumed it was better than ripping off the veil at the last minute. As these things went, like called to like. Even if he was the sterling original, those with arachnid vigilante tendencies often thought pretty similarly. While it might’ve been easier to simply call Flash, this felt…better, somehow. Orthodox in an unorthodox way. Exactly as they preferred to operate.

 

It didn’t take long for Agent Anti-Venom to show up. Even if they were both technically immune to sensing one another, like attracted like. Once a host, always a host. They always had an uncanny way of scoping each other out. That remained true as the other vigilante finally showed up, standing out from the shadows he’d been waiting in.

 

“Flash? We need to talk.” Fearlessly did Peter allow Venom to retract the mask in a way too familiar, the older man’s eyes widening at the sight of it occurring at all. “I’m gonna have to ask you to keep an open mind.”

 

“Something’s open, I’ll give you that,” Flash said incredulously as his expression matched his voice, own mask furling back to reveal the blond. Even though they’d known about each other for some time now, this newest development was likely the most shocking yet. “I’d ask, but I think you can explain it better.”

 

“Yeah, it’s… Saying it’s a long story is an understatement,” Peter admitted with a dry laugh, Venom taking their conversation as permission to emerge, smiling toothily at the blond and seeming excited to see his old friend again.

 

**Hi, Flash!** the symbiote greeted with an eager wiggle, resting its head on Peter’s shoulder and purring loud enough for both men to hear.

 

“Hey, buddy.” Flash lit up and withdrew the glove from his hand, allowing him to scratch Venom from under its chin as the symbiote purred even louder from the attentions. It butted Peter’s jaw, almost too overcome with happiness. The pair of them sat cross-legged on the ground, it being safe enough to do so. “Long story, gotcha. Can’t say I’m all that broken up to at least see Venom doing well. But, considering your history… Guess we’ll chalk it up to a miracle.”

 

“It happened after Mac Gargan was arrested. Venom was forced to abandon him. They used this...crowd scattering equipment. You know, the type that projects your voice back to you? That did the trick. I think I was the only one who actually saw Venom escape,” Peter began, idly digging his fingers into Venom’s back that caused it to practically melt.

 

“I get that. I’m just wondering...how it all came to be. You guys wanted to kill each other.”

 

**Not kill,** Venom interjected thoughtfully, glancing at the two men. **Petey misunderstood us. Didn’t understand that bad hosts made us like this. Made us want to kill him because of hosts’ intent.** It pressed into Peter’s neck, scraping a kittenish lick and tasting the salt of his skin.

 

“Yeah...I was slow to the uptake, I’ll admit it,” Peter conceded with a sigh, Flash’s ocean blue eyes full of understanding. “It’s just—it’s hard to see past the teeth and calls for vengeance and not see it as one in the same. And Venom was addicted to rage and did bring out the worst of a lot of its hosts. Sans you, and maybe me in the beginning.” Though, his hard expression seemed to soften. “I think we’re learning now, though. Venom’s shown me a lot these past few days. Things I wish I would’ve known a long time ago.”

 

When Flash touched his shoulder, by the open and genuine empathy in his gaze did Peter remember what Venom had said about his feelings and felt heat creep up his neck. Electing to ignore it for now, he cleared his throat. “Brock’s back. And I’ll be honest, I think our renewal is too new to think of taking him on alone. I hate to ask this of you, but I’m going to need your help, Flash. I don’t think I can take him on our own this time.”

 

“He’s dangerous this time around, Pete. Honestly, I’m just glad you’re asking. I try my best to help out, too.”

 

**All in this together!**

 

Three hands overlapped and their solidarity was sealed. Now, all Peter could hope was that it would be enough against Eddie Brock of all people.

* * *

Setting the trap was simpler than it should’ve been. Even Venom was excited to spring it, mainly because it entailed fighting alongside Flash again and with the man it had aspired to be like from the very beginning.

 

But, it’d be difficult, too, because it meant fighting against one of his steadfast and most enduring of loves.

 

Bedecked in the same, full black suit he’d donned when they first bonded, all the electricity and adrenaline and a fierce, contentious protectiveness seemed only intensified in this suit. He was the body electric, strumming with life and a discordant harmony only they could dream of understanding. Chaos given form, anger and rage tempered to finely honed steel, at last.

 

And the song was heard, bringing with it an orchestra more chaotic than they’d ever imagined.

 

Having swung around the city in a bid for attention, from the shadows were they able to flush Toxin out, it a chase that was white, black, and red all over. He came roaring and furious, their battle herded into an abandoned sector of the subway system that interlaced the city.

 

“ **LOOK OUT!”**

 

Spider-Man was dashed against tile that punched a crater from impact, groaning for a moment before Toxin careened for them on all fours and lunging with a gaping maw intent upon devouring a bite of them whole. But, before the impact could connect, they as Venom unleashed webbing that attached to another wall and soared away, Toxin snarling brokenly as it smashed into the wall, dust and chipped tile cracking and raining on the bonded pair.

 

“ **Yooou broke the deeeeeaaaaal!”** Toxin snarled brokenly as it recovered, shaking off the remnants of debris. Baring its wicked fangs, it met the wall-crawler with a vicious growl.

 

“Okay, first of all? You made that deal with Flash, not me. Second of all,” Peter prepared before suddenly vaulting towards the symbiote, a roundhouse kick punching through its defense fluidly, “you are _really_ bad at defense. Gotta keep your head— Whoa!”

 

Never given the chance to finish, Toxin surged forwards and clamped down on Peter’s foot in a vice, flinching as tooth sank into bone and swung him around like a rag doll to crash harshly into the concrete, vision flooded with a blur of motion and sound before hurling him away to splinter into the stone.

 

In that moment of distraction, the Anti-Venom symbiote flew into action, springing over their chaos and sinking extendable talons of ivory into flesh of scarlet and black. Toxin shrieked wildly when it did, steam rising from the injection site where the symbiote began caterwauling wildly.

 

**Peter, we can’t. The child—** Venom interjected weakly, tremulous and pleading. **Only a child…**

 

It was then that Peter remembered: Toxin was just a child by their standards. While he’d been too pig-headed in the past, that wasn’t the case now. “Anti-Venom, leave it to us!” Peter shouted above the cacophony, Flash appearing confused but relenting.

 

Driven into a primal fury by the pain, Toxin screamed wrathfully before its form seemed to visibly grow larger than before, an enraged scarlet while pounding its fists into the ground that ejected plumes of dust from its power.

 

**Have to stop them, Petey. Have to—**

 

“I know,” Peter replied grimly, knowing what had to be done. “...I trust you.”

 

Never had three words sounded more beautiful coming from the man it never thought it’d hear them from.

 

Righteous anger fueled the symbiote and it hulked out in exactly the way Peter had feared once, submitting to trust as Venom grew double in size and bulk with its maw splitting open and answering Toxin’s challenge with a righteous fury to protect their kin with everything they had—from the host that inhabited it, and from itself.

 

Charging towards Toxin did the younger symbiote meet it with a fierce grapple, attrition seeing them vie with primal strength for dominance. Anti-Venom flanked it and feinted, headbutting the younger and sending it soaring into another wall the impact almost punched solidly through. Its hide steamed painfully from the impact, Venom’s visage creased with worry but knowing it was ultimately a necessary evil.

 

Panting heavily, Toxin shook off the damage like it was nothing, but staggered slightly before it did so. Venom glanced poignantly at Anti-Venom, the white symbiote bolting towards it and watching nigh helplessly as it charged into the red, a pale streak that cut through the dusty darkness and shattered their way through a wall. Acrid plumes of smoke arose from the collision, muddying the air as Toxin shrieked from the pain while Anti-Venom held it down just long enough for it to grow faint and steadily unconscious.

 

“ **Enough.”**

 

In an act of compassion did Venom motion for Anti-Venom to stand down, Anti-Venom yielding as Venom lumbered towards them in heavy strides. Carefully did it guide the younger’s head in its hands, Toxin panting heavily with its eyes shining, seeming to be begging for mercy. Venom’s grandchild was overwrought from the gesture, tears pricking in its eyes.

 

**No more. No more, Toxin.**

 

Tendrils of black snared together in those red brambles of Toxin’s own, a sympathetic link between kin as Venom sent soothing waves through their bond and felt Toxin tremble at the gentility of it all, yearningly pressing into Venom’s brow for the family it didn’t know it wished to have.

 

**This ends here.**

 

Taking Toxin into their arms, the pair embraced tightly that had never been known among their species before, an eerie calm settling in the dust as Flash lingered in the periphery of their reconciliation, an understanding but heavy mournfulness dominant. Suit having reformed to his usual uniform, he relegated himself to watching on in quiet awe.

 

Gradually, they shrunk until their became their human sizes again, Eddie Brock unconscious in Peter’s arms as he held his enemy in a way he never thought he would, fostering a forgiveness he thought might never be ever again.

 

That a pair of souls the world thought lost to the dark could find their way back into the light again.

 

Choosing not to remain a bystander, safely retracting Anti-Venom as much as necessary, Flash engulfed the two of them as well, silence falling over them like dust and peace.

* * *

_ Ravencroft Asylum, Westchester County, New York – Two weeks later _

 

He knew—maybe they didn’t have to go, leave this part of the world behind and get on with their lives. But, even Peter knew better than to look back on what had happened as though it hadn’t at all. The morning dawned pale and misty, promising a sunny day ahead as he and Flash sojourned through New York for Westchester County, home of the infamous Ravencroft Asylum.

 

The asylum that had become Eddie Brock’s voluntary new home.

 

Peter Parker and Flash Thompson had shown up for the trial not as friends, but as witnesses. And in Peter’s case, the only photographer licensed to take pictures through the proceedings. But, they three knew what had really transpired, a kind of lucidity too many took for granted. It was difficult to wade through when Eddie had multiple counts of murder and more as Toxin; and that was just that symbiote alone.

 

It would be a long road, but Eddie had expressed a want of redemption even before Toxin had come along.

 

It was in the vestibule where the less dangerous patients were allowed visitation, there was something surreal in the way they were all in a supervised room that looked more suitable for interrogations, contrasted to the resolution of that fateful battle just a few weeks ago.

 

They sat in heavy, contemplative silence. Silence that Flash was the first to break, being their unofficial mediator.

 

“So, you liking it here so far, Brock?” Flash began neutrally, lips held in a firm line while the bulkier man glanced hard up at them.

 

Eddie’s shoulders were sagged, face unsmiling and severe. “No. But it was necessary,” he conceded, gazing poignantly at Peter over them. He could sense his Other in Parker. Something he didn’t know how to feel about. “...I’ve got a lot of issues. Being here is helping, so far.” _Baby steps._

 

**Baby steps.**

 

“You know, I’ll be honest, Brock, but I’m not here because I want to throw you a line and try and befriend you. You’re a murderous asshole with a messiah complex and you’ve caused me and a lot of people grief.” Feeling Venom’s presence twitch against his rib cage, his hardened expression relented—if only a little. “But, I know you’re not a hopeless case. You’re not like Kasady. That’s what I’m hinging my hope on, here. And Venom wants that for you, too.”

 

Eddie sat back when Venom’s name was brought up. Peter didn’t need a psychic to see the conflict between a man that had genuinely shunned and feared what Venom was, and someone that had loved Venom like no one else had before. It was a fact Peter couldn’t eliminate, something he had to cope with no matter how much it ate him up.

 

The blond folded his arms, averting Peter’s stare as intense as a Penance Gaze. “I can’t ask it to forgive me. Not after what I did to its spawn. Or what I did to...innocent people. And guilty. I think about it all the time. Of the lives that weren’t mine to take.” He clasped his hands together again, sighing shakily. “All I can assure it is that I’m going to atone for everything I’ve done. I’m going to get help and become a better man. This is my purgatory and I’m not leaving until I’ve left everything bad behind me.”

 

Peter could feel Venom’s grief trembling through the symbiote, a protective wall flying between it and Brock in the form of his psyche. Internally, Venom shook with distress the more Brock spoke because no amount of words would bring its slain offspring back. Nothing could quantify the pain it now felt, that roiled through it like a tempest. Even so, damnably so, Venom wanted to forgive him. Wanted to forgive him for the sake of the love they shared once even if it still made Peter’s insides roll and twist like a pretzel.

 

“I really hope you’re right, Brock. That you’re being honest with us. You hurt Venom. You killed one of its offspring while you got off the hook. Honestly, we’d be considered saints for bringing you here to rot in the first place,” Flash said acerbically, fixing an honest glower on the man.

 

Eddie bowed his head and said no more, the guards taking it as a sign of their meeting being over. They cuffed his hands behind his back, but the man balked before he could be escorted away. “I _am_ going to change for the better, Parker, Thompson. I don’t go back on my word,” he said finally before disappearing behind a heavy steel door with a clangor.

 

Peter felt himself sag in the chair, shoulders shaking with the combined grief shared between host and symbiote. “Pete?” Flash queried on soft concern, maneuvering his wheelchair around the table’s edge and touching a hand to the brunet’s shoulder, then saying nothing as he moved Peter into his arms and held the man who clung to him as if for dear life. Between them, he could feel Venom latch on to their shoulders and necks, shivering as grief roiled through it and Scream’s loss punctured like a wound.

 

They held each other for what seemed like hours before Peter began to withdraw, Venom reluctantly returning to him while the man cleared his throat and wiped the corners of his eyes. “Sorry about that, Flash.”

 

If anything, Flash seemed the more sheepish of the two, a faint dusting of pink on his cheeks. “It’s alright. Trust me, I’ve been there. ...Don’t shame yourself for grieving, Pete. Even if it doesn’t feel like the time or place.”

 

“Yeah, I know.” Peter got up from the chair with a sense of finality, pausing when he heard Venom speak.

 

**Don’t want Scream’s death to have been in vain. Want her remembered. Want Eddie to make up for what he’s done.** Peter could feel it. Even if it was in the recent past, Venom resisted every old urge to unleash itself and tear Ravencroft apart until Eddie was beaten to a bloody pulp for what he’d done. But, the intense love they’d shared prevented that. With a history like that, how could they just walk away and move on, or ever hope to mete out some cruel revenge?

 

When Flash touched his hand, Peter glanced down, Venom too piqued with interest. “How busy are you guys for the rest of the day? Too busy to take a trip down to Philadelphia? Because there’s someone I want you two to meet. Something who I think might even cheer Venom up, even a little.”

 

As they weren’t connected, there wasn’t any way of honing in on what Flash meant, but anything to distract from Venom’s dredging grief was a boon that could easily be accepted.

 

“I think we’ve got the rest of the day free.” And Venom couldn’t agree more.


	7. Chapter 7

Warning(s); M, none

* * *

_ Jenkintown, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania – 2.5 hours later _

 

The drive was made in near total silence as the trio didn’t really have anything to say, Flash exchanging subtle, concerned looks towards Peter who only flashed glances between the open highway they drove down and the GPS app on his smartphone currently leading them there. Flash had assured that whoever they were seeing had already been noticed far ahead of time of the potential of their coming, and called again when it was a certainty.

 

While he wished the silence was companionable, a grim bitterness still remained in Peter as his composure felt tired and sagging, likely from the shared grief between host and symbiote and the collective guilt from Peter’s tumultuous past with them. Something he was still struggling to process because it’d never occurred to him to be guilty over it before.

 

“I think you’ll really like Andi, Peter. She’s a great kid,” Flash said with a smile from the passenger seat, his wheelchair having been stowed in the back seat.

 

Peter’s gaze remained despondently ahead, but his mouth quirked at the corner. “Not surprising. It’s you, Flash,” he managed to say, even if his voice bordered on monotony due to his exhaustion. “You tend to have good people at your side.”

 

“I can’t tell if that’s a compliment or an ego stroke on your behalf, Parker,” he replied with a wry smile, chuckling softly.

 

Venom emerged and its serpentine head wriggled towards Flash and rest contently on his shoulder, the blond grinning and lavishing the symbiote with scritches beneath its chin, purring loudly. **Compliment. Can tell,** it said, not exactly chatty, either, but it was a start. It nuzzled adoringly into his neck, and even if Peter watched with a gaze tinged with jealousy, he smiled and allowed it.

 

Venom deserved all the comfort it could get.

 

It wasn’t long until they drove off the highway and the streets became shorter and more pedestrian, a comfortable local air as Flash felt a sense of settling after the intense action of those past several days, clocking in at almost a week since he’d left. Today was the last day he could take sick leave from his job, after all.

 

They pulled into Andi’s residence and Peter helped Flash into his wheelchair, popping the trunk and setting up a ramp up the stoop onto the porch deck where they’d be spending the afternoon, seeing as the morning had been a bit too harrowing. At least emotionally taxing, that much was sure.

 

Flash wheeled up to the door and rapped his knuckles on the door while Peter hung back, knowing the sunny smile was meant for his student and protege. That didn’t mean he’d sulk unpleasantly, Venom also rather curious as to the significance of the visit.

 

 

When the door opened to reveal Andi, the young teen immediately brightened when she saw Peter, too. “Hey, coach,” she said in an unusually chipper greeting to Flash, then waving shyly to Peter.

 

Flash beckoned Peter closer, the teen offering her hand to shake. “Peter, meet Andi Benton: one of my students and sidekick, so to speak. Andi, Peter Parker, who...well, the symbiote probably keyed you in already,” Flash introduced as he moved aside a little so Peter could shake the young woman’s hand, the brunet doing so with an inviting smile, if tinged with a little sadness from before.

 

“Not every day you meet a living legend. Shame I can’t get a candid selfie for Instagram,” Andi joked that Peter laughed to. “Oh, my aunt made cinnamon rolls and lemonade. Wait here for a sec.”

 

When Andi disappeared back inside, both men helped themselves to congregating around a wicker-woven outdoor table on the porch, the birds trilling delightfully as the morning cool was slicking away into the telltale hints of summer. “So, what do you think of her so far, Pete?”

 

“She’s not into sports, is she? Takes one to know one,” Peter said with a laugh as he sank back into the wicker chair, creaking some under his weight.

 

Flash laughed at that. “Yeah, you pegged her right. But, Andi’s a good kid. Got a heart of gold, even if she’d be the last person to admit it.”

 

But a few moments later, Andi sidled out with a tray loaded with five cinnamon rolls and a pitcher of lemonade with some glasses and vessel for sugar. Sliding it on the table, Peter and Flash wasted no time in helping themselves to warm, sweet-smelling treats. “Hope you guys like Philly-style lemonade. Homemade and everything,” Andi said with a grin as she poured them each glasses, them taking a seat for herself and giving both men significant looks.

 

“Hey, Venom?” At the mention of its name, Venom manifested in its usual, serpentine form and canted its head curiously. “I’m really sorry about what happened to Scream and the others. Flash told me everything.” The symbiote’s expression fell, more surprised that she’d offer sympathies in the first place as most people were wont to do otherwise.

 

**Wish it hadn’t happened but...thank you. Friend of Flash, friend of ours, too.**

 

Glancing at Flash who met her look in unison, Andi suddenly appeared self-conscious. “Yeah, might want to tack on a plural… There’s someone we want you to meet.” Closing her eyes in concentration, matching Venom did a symbiote of her own appear over her shoulder, serpentine-headed and looking similar to Venom sans purple streaks in its hide and ornamentation meant to mimic spiky hair. Glancing curiously at its host, it froze when it saw Venom but intrepidly floated towards the older Klyntar.

 

 _ **Are you my parent?**_ the younger symbiote queried boldly, seeming unafraid.

 

Venom, still in shock, could only gape. “Mania came into being while you were unconscious, Venom. When you and I were bonded. Its still grasping the ropes, but it wants to be a hero just like you.”

 

Venom sniffed before it whimpered loudly and crooned affectionately, over like a shot as it coiled affectionately around Mania and smothered them in a tight embrace, nuzzling and lavishing it with excessive licks that could only be a parent’s love. **Beautiful! You’re beautiful!** Venom declared adoringly to its host and former host, both symbiotes a happy puddle of goo on the table while Mania gave weak protest to the smothering affections of its parent.

 

Even Peter and Flash couldn’t help but tear up a little at the reunion, Peter especially who was on the receiving end. It struck him. Through the feedback between himself and Venom, he’d learnt of the pain between their division, the way Klyntar normally were completely aloof from the notion of family. But, with so many of its hosts having these ideas of it present, inevitably did the ideal of having a family of its own proliferate and become one of Venom’s utmost desires.

 

With a tender gaze did Peter reach over and stroke the morass of affectionate parent and spawn, effused with a warmth Flash never thought he’d see Peter have for them. “Mania’s good. I think they’ll stay that way,” Peter said finally, smiling up at Andi who regarded him shyly back.

 

“Man, even Klyntar parents are total saps. Guess I shouldn’t be so surprised, considering who Venom’s hosts have been,” Andi teased with an impish smile, Flash feigning indigence.

 

“Hey, I’m not a sap! I’m the coolest coach you’ve ever had!” Flash protested half-heartedly, even if his smile was infectious. Andi rolled her eyes, completely unconvinced.

 

“You’re right, Andi. Flash is a total sap. Trust me, I went to school and college with the guy,” Peter supplied unhelpfully with a wink.

 

 **Flash the sap!** Venom crowed too, finally emerging from the literal cuddle puddle it was engrossed in with its offspring.

 

“Alright, alright! Uncle! I give!” Flash said with his hands up in defeat, eyes watery from mirth.

* * *

They’d wound up staying for a few hours. It wasn’t every day an aspiring vigilante got the chance to pick the brains of one of the most famous among them, so it was one Andi didn’t even think of squandering. And for Peter, it was nice having a distraction in the wake of something immense.

 

Venom, meanwhile, was all too happy to cling and cuddle with Mania who indulged their parent almost too gladly, with a few juvenile protests any child would lodge against too much affection. Affection among their kind was improbable and rare, but not something they cared to squander.

 

Leaving was hard, but Venom did so with a full heart knowing Mania was in good hands and it and its host were under the eye and direction of someone it trusted its life to.

 

When they finally came to Flash’s apartment for Peter to drop off, a heavy air of wistfulness and unsaid things burgeoning in the air. Venom didn’t say a word, even though both host and symbiote had a feeling as to what it was; those longing looks Peter pretended not to see, a sadness at the reality that they’d have to depart and would likely be awhile before they saw each other again.

 

“Cat’s out of the bag. First thing when I get back I know pretty much everyone will have questions, or more,” Peter sighed as he and Flash sat on the lone couch in the living room, both men relaxing from their long journey over mugs of hot brewed coffee. He didn’t drink much, but was content to let the warmth seep into his hands.

 

“You won’t be going it entirely alone, Pete. You’ve got me in your corner in case you have questions or anything,” Flash replied with a sincere smile, a hand on the younger man’s shoulder.

 

“I appreciate it, Flash, really—I do. But I don’t want anyone taking the fall for me. From here on out, I’m not going to shy away from being beholden to whatever comes. The good, the bad, and the ugly.” Still, Flash had a point. It wasn’t an offer to shoulder the burden, after all. At least not in any dependent way. “Venom will probably want to call. Maybe do Facetime in case you ever want to catch up, or if Mania isn’t too proud to call home.”

 

The corners of Flash’s mouth quirked. “Yeah, that’s true. I just hope everything pans out alright, Pete.”

 

There was a long lapse of silence as Peter finished off the rest of the coffee, motioning to bring the mug to the sink before his friend stopped him with a weighted hand on his shoulder. Neither said anything as slowly, carefully did Flash motion to angle his lips towards Peter’s before he remembered himself and stopped, long bangs falling over his face.

 

Peter, still startled, was just barely processing what had nearly happened.

 

“Sorry, Pete. Can we just...forget about it?” Flash murmured weakly, unable to look his longtime friend in the eye as he folded his arms insecurely. “Guess I’m just...lonely, you know.”

 

Peter nodded, not upset, rather—just unsure of what to make of it. Slowly he sat back down, bringing Flash into his arms who clung tightly, burying his face into Peter’s neck and inhaling his scent, calming him. Venom, too, emerged and tightened the embrace between the two men, dabbing Flash’s cheek with soft kisses and licking away the few salty tears that leaked out.

 

“Two hours isn’t that bad. I could always visit more often on the weekends if you’re not too busy,” Peter offered once they withdrew, temples touching as they leaned into one another. Knowing that he had to leave, a weighty intention yet ahead, Peter brushed some of Flash’s bangs aside and planted a slow, soft kiss to the older man’s forehead. Flash sighed deeply, reluctantly allowing Peter to rise from the couch. Though, his look was heartfelt and tender as he waved Peter off.

 

“Take care of each other, you hear?”

 

Peter smiled genuinely at that. **Take care of yourself, too!** Venom quipped over his shoulder before their last farewell was said and they left with another destination in mind.

* * *

It was late when he returned home to his apartment, and later still when he went out that night with his scheme in mind. It wasn’t anything dastardly, he thought, but—no. He couldn’t just leave it at this.

 

Together they sat in silence, thinking and feeling and concentrating on the mind of Venom’s grandchild, no reservation in either of their minds. Toxin was innocent. Barely a baby and already influenced by terrible hosts and circumstances and they weren’t going to stand for it any longer.

 

It was exactly why, half past midnight, that Spider-Man broke into Alchemax Labs without so much as a second thought. There’s a crusade on his mind and in his heart, only having to listen to the distressed bleating of the child that’s torture for Venom and host alike to endure. Two people who could never turn a blind eye to the innocent, especially now that Peter had an expanded understanding of what that was, exactly.

 

They found Toxin in a holding cylinder, pawing desperately at them, Venom extending from Peter’s suit arm with a snarl and angrily constricting the glass until it cracked and broke, mindful that none of the glass shards pelted the infant.

 

Venom crooned soothingly as the distressed symbiote coiled and clung to it, purring loudly and sending reassuring and calming energy to its grandchild.

 

“Think we gotta go,” Peter hissed when the first blares of alarms sounded, wailing loudly while Venom flinched from the suddenness. Cradling the small symbiote, Toxin coiled around Venom’s arm and the symbiote cooed reassuringly despite its shivering.

 

Quickly did they vault high into the ceiling, webbing clinging while Peter all but crashed through the skylights in a rain of scintillating glass shards, all that the security guards saw when they rushed inside to ascertain what had been stolen.

 

With Venom’s ability to disguise them, they thankfully might never know.

 

The return home was one fraught with the fear of being caught, but for once, as soon as they alighted inside and slammed the window shut, he felt he could sag from relief. Without thinking, as Venom retracted back inside his body and leaving a small deposit of Toxin’s scarlet form cradled in his arms, he made a beeline for the fridge and took out all the raw meat he could find and set it and the infant symbiote on the table, Venom emerging and beginning to rummage through and tear away bite-sized strips to feed it.

 

Peter sagged in relief into a chair and watched as Venom lovingly fed the small symbiote, feeling exhaustion weigh him but feeling a sense of personal victory high above that. Offering his hand did the young Toxin croon and instead flatten itself beneath Peter’s palm, amusing itself by lifting and lowering his hand like a platform before rolling into his cusp and purring deeply, Peter bringing his hand near him and pecking the top of Toxin’s head. Venom nuzzled its way beneath Peter’s jawline, grazing a lingering kiss to his jaw in sweetest gratitude.

 

He smiled, feeling his eyes grow watery. While still hovering near the young symbiote, Venom said, **Thank you, Petey. Thank you for giving the child a chance.**

 

“Hey, all in a day’s work, right?” Consequences be damned. Toxin was innocent. Wrongly influenced, but innocent. And Peter didn’t have the black and white worldview skewed like Brock, even though he knew the consequences would be immense come morning.

 

Even though Venom knew it, too, right now they didn’t want to think. Right now, they just wanted this happy family to subsist for as long as it could, even if it would be as brief as a daydream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! And as my gift to all of you, I hope you'll be happy to know that this is just the beginning of a little Spideyvenom AU verse that begins with this! :D

**Author's Note:**

> This is more or less based on Venom 2011 with some screwy timelines going on in regards to canon. It's inconsistent but we're not here for that.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Peace and Love](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17914898) by [Luxanna Day (LunariDay)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunariDay/pseuds/Luxanna%20Day)




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